


Glow

by honeybuckysofoats



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 1k, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Stydia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 13:06:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19724263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeybuckysofoats/pseuds/honeybuckysofoats
Summary: Stiles pressed the phone to his ear, listening to each tone that signaled the line was ringing.“Hello?” Lydia’s tired voice finally sounded from the tinny speaker.Stiles was silent for a moment, only his sniffles and now muted cries coming through to her.“Stiles?” She seemed more alert now, “What’s going on?”“I just wanted to hear your voice.” He forced out, his speech cramped and broken, tears tugging at his vocal chords.





	Glow

Sobs wracked Stiles’ body, his fingers gripping the sheets around him, knuckles paling. His chest was damp with sweat as he kicked the blankets off of himself. Images of his mother flitted past his eyelids.  
He yelled into a fistful of blankets, his voice muted by the cloth. He fumbled for his phone, chest constricting with each swell of tears. His shaking hands searched for the contact name, looking for recognizable letters through blurred vision.  
He found it, and pressed the phone to his ear, listening to each tone that signaled the line was ringing.  
“Hello?” Lydia’s tired voice finally sounded from the tinny speaker.  
Stiles was silent for a moment, only his sniffles and now muted cries coming through to her.  
“Stiles?” She seemed more alert now, “What’s going on?”  
“I just wanted to hear your voice.” He forced out, his speech cramped and broken, tears tugging at his vocal chords.  
He listened to her breath over the phone, trying to synchronize with her while she searched for something to say.  
“Are- Are you okay?” She asked. He could hear her getting out of bed, stepping to her closet and searching for something to wear.  
“Yeah yeah.” He assured, sniffles filling the spaces between his words, “Get back in bed, I just had a nightmare.”  
Stiles pulled his knees to his chest, squeezing his eyes shut as more hot tears ran down his cheeks and dripped off of his chin.  
“I’ll be there in a few minutes.” She said.  
He wanted to protest, but he knew he needed to hear her voice in person, see her face, feel her arms wrap around him and pull him into her embrace.  
“Okay.” He said quietly, wiping his nose with the heel of his hand.

Stiles bit down harshly on his bottom lip as he opened the door. Lydia stood on his stoop, dressed in a mismatched combination of fleece Star Wars pajama pants and a pink jacket that covered the Maroon 5 t-shirt she had slept in. She stared at the redness that surrounded his swollen eyes and stained his cheeks and nose, the tears that were still on his face, and his lip, which he was now beginning to draw blood from with his teeth.  
She stepped forward. Her eyes still moved over his face, and she hesitated.  
Stiles held himself back too, wanting to wrap his arms around her and pull her into his chest, but knowing she’d never let him, she’d never be comfortable in his arms. Instead, he leaned on a habit and opened his mouth to talk, “So-”  
Lydia pushed herself into his chest, gripping the back of the t-shirt he’d put on and holding his body tight to her own.  
Slowly, his head fell into her shoulder, his arms lifting to hold her. She felt his body shaking as he cried into the fabric of her jacket.  
“It’s okay.” She whispered, her fingers tangling into his hair. “I’m here for you.”  
They stood there for a moment together, the door open beside them, cold air drifting inside. They just held each other.  
She pulled back from him so she could look in his eyes, their bodies still pressed close. Concern laced her brow as she stroked his hair. Brown strands had stuck to his forehead with sweat and she pushed them gently back into place.  
“I’m so sorry.” He bowed his head, shaking it and biting on his lip again, “I’m sorry I called you, and let you come here.”  
“Stiles.” She nudged him until he met her gaze, “I know I don’t admit it a lot, but we’re friends, okay?”  
“I’m here for you when you need me.” She pressed.  
She turned and shut the door, his chest immediately aching with the loss of her touch.  
“Because…” She flattened her palms on his t-shirt, feeling his heartbeat against her right hand, “You’re there for me when I need you.”  
They met one another’s eyes for a moment, his glassy and bloodshot, hers wide with concern. “I’ve got you.” Lydia said under her breath.  
But she meant more than that.  
She laced her fingers with his, pulling him gently back toward his bedroom. Her eyes drifted over the photos that lined the hallways of his home. Pictures of a young Stiles and his parents, pictures of his mother- where his eyes seemed to linger.  
“Did you dream about her?” Lydia asked.  
Stiles nodded, his gaze flitting away from the photos.  
“Do you want to talk about it?”  
He shook his head.  
“Let’s get you back to sleep.” She pushed his bedroom door open and lead him inside.  
The room was cleaner than she'd expect, though a few tiny piles of clothes still scattered the floor and homework had made a mat of crumpled papers on his desk.  
"I'm sorry it's so messy." He said as they sat down on the edge of his bed.  
He felt her head fall gently onto his shoulder, "You don't have to keep apologizing."  
They sat there for a while, his hand in hers, her head on his shoulder. They didn't talk much, however unusual it was for the two of them. Stiles listened to her steady breaths and tried to line his up, hoping his shallow, anxious breathing would turn rhythmic and calm. Lydia let herself focus on his touch. She never liked to admit it, but she loved the warmth that seemed to radiate from him, the glow that she liked to think maybe leaked into her a little bit each time he touched her.  
They spoke at the same time, "Is there any chance you might-" Stiles started,  
"Do you think maybe I could-" Lydia said, sitting up.  
They both went pink and Stiles stared as Lydia looked down at his carpet.  
She spoke quietly and nervously, a sound he'd never heard on her voice. But he spoke hopefully, the sound she heard on his voice whenever they spoke.  
"Stay?" They asked simultaneously.  
Stiles cracked a smile for the first time that night and Lydia couldn't help but smile back.  
They shuffled under his covers, much less gracefully than either of them would've liked. Stiles tried to keep his distance, afraid that she'd recoil from his touch. But instead, she moved close to him, an arm bent across his chest and her head rested on his shoulder. Reluctantly, Stiles lifted a hand to stroke her hair. The strawberry blonde waves were soft between his fingers, calming the anxiety that fought for his attention.  
"Thank you." He whispered.  
"Whenever you need me." Lydia replied, her eyelids drifting closed.  
Stiles let himself shut his eyes too, and holding onto her was the only thing that kept the nightmare from flitting over his vision. He held her closer until finally, they both fell asleep.


End file.
